


Feel

by TheSoundOfThunderstorms



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Feelings of guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-04 20:07:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12175716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSoundOfThunderstorms/pseuds/TheSoundOfThunderstorms
Summary: She was a distraction, one that caused a costly mistake.





	Feel

**Author's Note:**

> Just a spur of the moment thing that came to me. So I obviously had to write it out.  
> Hope you enjoy :)

“Hey.” Sombra suddenly appeared on the roof next to the sniper.

Widowmaker concentrated down the scope, meticulously tracking the single heat signature with her visor. She pointedly ignored Sombra’s attempt to talk. Now wasn’t a good time.

“Want to get something to eat after this?” Sombra took a seat by Widowmaker’s legs, resting her head against a knee. She knew she was being ignored, but she also knew the sniper would answer her eventually. Patience was something she had to re-learn around Widowmaker. She was getting better at it.

 _There you are._ The target was coming up on a break in the wall. There was a small gap, less than a meter wide. But it was enough. Silence echoed after the piercing shot. Sombra gave an appreciative whistle from beside her.

“That guy is definitely dead.”

Gloved fingers disengaged the visor, making is so that golden eyes could concentrate on the hacker leaning against her. “Oui, let’s eat.”

“What’d you want to eat?” Sombra was smiling to herself, already bringing up results for nearby places. They were supposed to go back to their hideout, but Sombra was hungry and she didn’t feel like cooking.

“Surprise me.”

“What happened to ‘I don’t like surprises’?”

She rested the rifle on her shoulder, rolling her eyes at the poor impression of her voice. “With you, I’ve gotten used to surprises. They seem to follow you wherever you go.” Widowmaker leaned down to tap Sombra on the shoulder, coaxing the woman to stand up.

Sombra uncrossed her legs, standing up in one motion. “You like noodles right?” She looked up from the purple screens at her fingertips when she felt fingers lightly running over the scrape on her cheek.

Widowmaker didn’t say anything for a while. She was too focused on how purple eyes seemed so enamored with her touch. How one simple action had the hacker’s rapt attention all on her. She felt a pleasant buzz in the back of her mind, compelled to match the captivated gaze in an attempt to hold on to that moment. To stay in that state of feeling for as long as possible.

When she spoke, it was like the spell was broken. Gleaming eyes looked down and a shy smile slowly spread across Sombra’s face. “I like noodles just fine chérie.” Widowmaker leaned in, pressing a kiss to the corner of her lips.

It was like an addiction for the hacker. She always ended up wanting more. More from the woman that drove her thoughts wild and her heart into overdrive from just one look. So, she tilted her head a little, easily capturing those beautiful lips in a chilled kiss. The cold skin always sent a shock down her spine. It was something she grew to crave.

Widowmaker’s knees buckled. She never saw it coming, hardly felt it when it first hit. But she could see it in Sombra’s eyes. The way eyelids slowly widened, brows creasing in concern as the terror gradually settled onto her face. She’d been shot.

“Shit.” Sombra instinctively held onto the sniper as she crumpled to the ground, hands moving to try to cover the hole in her neck. Her blood was dark, slowly oozing into her fingers. It felt lukewarm as it seeped into the crevices of her gloves. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Sombra’s body moved on its own. She started to drag the sniper to cover, her mind halfway to shutting down at the sight. “You’re gonna be okay.” _She has to be._  Hurried hands searched desperately through the thigh pouch Widowmaker carried, fingers shakily pulling out a syringe. “I’m right here. You’ll be okay.” She didn’t know if her words had any effect on the woman in her arms, only that they were the only things keeping her from falling apart right then and there. They were a mantra in her mind, helping to push away the feeling of dread. Especially when Widowmaker started laughing.

Her body shook from the laughter escaping her lungs. Tears spilled down her cheeks because she finally felt it. It was cold. So cold. Like a blanket of ice draped over her body. And it burned. Pain flowed down from her neck, all the way down to the tips of her fingers. She was helpless to stop any of it, unable to block away the anguish ripping through her body. And that’s what made it so funny.

“It feels cold.”

“No, no, no. Don’t say scary stuff like that.” Sombra ripped off the cap to the syringe, sticking the needle in as carefully as she could. Worried eyes watched the thick orange liquid disappear from the syringe. She didn’t know what that stuff was supposed to do, only that it was for emergencies.

She wanted to scream, to pound her fists into the ground until they bled. This was never supposed to happen. Not ever in her wildest dreams did Sombra imagine any of this.

Unsteady fingers tapped her earpiece, opening the emergency channel. “We need an emergency evac now.” It took every ounce of willpower not to just shout everything over the line.

The channel was empty for a moment. Sombra could hear her heart thumping in her ears.

_“20 minutes.”_

Sombra looked down at the blood covering her hands, her lap, and the ground. Did Widowmaker even have 20 minutes? She was too scared to think about it.

Her arms gathered up the now silent woman, repositioning Widowmaker in her lap in an effort to make her comfortable. Golden eyes wouldn’t meet her gaze. There was just an eerie smile as the sniper stared up into the sky.  

That’s what scared Sombra the most.

-

It was three days. Three days of staying holed up in the small recovery room. Three days of watching the perfectly steady rise and fall of Widowmaker’s breathing. Of hearing the rhythmically slow heartbeat over the monitor.

Sombra didn’t even bring a blanket or pillow with her. She just parked herself in one of the chairs and stayed put. Her back ached and she had bags under her eyes from staying up into the night to see if her partner was okay. She didn’t smell too good either. The only time she got up from the damn chair was to use the bathroom. Other than that, her body was molded to her makeshift home.

“She’s probably gonna kick me out to take a shower when she wakes up.” Sombra smiled at the thought. She brought her chair closer to the bed, resting her arms on the mattress.

Heavy footsteps approached the secluded room, stopping right before the door. Sombra listened intently. She wanted so badly for whoever it was to just leave. But it wasn’t like she could kick them out. The best thing she could do was lay her head down and try really hard to wish them away.

Sombra let out a held breath when the door opened. She listened as the footsteps stopped beside her, the deep sigh of the visitor clueing her in to just who it was.

“What do you want Gabe?” She shut her eyes tight, refusing to look his way.

“You have an assignment.”

“I know.”

“She’ll still be here when you get back.”

“I’m not going.”

“Akande isn’t in the mood for your-”

Sombra snapped her head up, eyes zeroing in on Gabriel’s. “You can drag his ass here and I’ll tell him the same damn thing I told you. I’m _not_ going. Find someone else to do it.”

Tired eyes observed the man. She watched as he took a moment to just look at the resting woman on the bed, an unreadable expression on his face. And then he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You need to take care of yourself too.”

Sombra didn’t answer. She went back to staring at the heart monitor. There were too many thoughts rattling in her head, just waiting for the chance to break free. She almost shuddered at the prospect of focusing on herself. That’s where the guilt and self-loathing were. And she wasn’t sure if she was ready to face them.

She felt Gabriel press something to the bed. A comforting hand rested on her shoulder, his fingers squeezing lightly.

“It’ll just get worse if you keep up like this.” He let his hand drop and headed out the door, closing it behind him when he left.

Shaking hands blindly reached for whatever it was Gabriel left. It was a chocolate bar. Her fingers moved on their own, tearing the wrapper open with little effort.

Hot tears rolled down her cheek when she took the first bite. She was starving and it was like she was taunting her stomach with the pitiful candy bar. Her muscles were shaking and she felt like she was going to faint at any moment.

One look back to the sleeping woman and she made up her mind.

The chair scooted back as Sombra stood up. She curled her fingers around a cold hand, rubbing small circles into it. “I’ll be back.”

-

Lukewarm water pooled down the drain as Sombra stood in the shower. She had a hand braced against the wall, breaths coming in puffs as she tried to block out her thoughts.

Whenever she closed her eyes, all she could picture was the blood. And when she’d open them again, she could only see the haunting words her mind had etched into the shower wall.

_It’s my fault._

_It’s my fault._

Black spots faded in and out of her vision. She felt like she was going to faint.

She ended up on the shower floor, barely able to turn off the water as she sat there with her knees huddled close together. “It’s my fault.” Quiet words echoed off the tiled walls. They just replayed over and over again.

They should have left. She was nothing but a distraction. Her body flinched when she pictured the moment Widowmaker deactivated her visor to talk to her. She might as well have pulled the trigger herself.

“She won’t forgive me.” _I can’t even forgive myself._

Little droplets of water fell from the shower head. They felt cold against her skin, little icy reminders telling her that she was sitting there too long.

On trembling legs, Sombra finally got out of the shower. She ran one of the folded towels over her body, concentrating the most on staying on both legs. As her vision transitioned between color and blackness, she remembered the day Widowmaker walked into her bathroom and started rearranging everything.

_“It’s a mess in here.” Sharp eyes took in the state of the bathroom, clearly taking issue with the condition of it._

_“I’ve got better things to do then to make sure my towels are folded.” Sombra picked up her toothbrush, smearing a good amount of toothpaste on it._

_“You mean you can start with folding the towels.”_

_“Huh?” The toothbrush clattered as it fell inside the sink. Widowmaker had dragged her by the arm, bringing her to the rack of messily piled towels._

_“You do know how to fold towels, yes?”_

_“Yeah.” She barely registered that Widowmaker had pressed a towel into her hands. She was too busy being mesmerized by the way the woman concentrated so hard on such a trivial task of folding._

“She ended up refolding all the towels I did.” Sombra grinned at the memory. “Said I was terrible at it.” She dropped the towel on top of the sink counter, sluggishly putting on a pair of shorts and a tank top. She missed the first couple of times when she reached for her toothbrush, finally grabbing it on the third try.  
 

Purple eyes blinked in confusion when she realized that the toothpaste on her toothbrush was actually lotion. And for some reason, it was the funniest mistake in the world. Because she ended up bent over the counter in laughter, tears streaming down her cheeks and into the sink.

She still felt dizzy and the black spots were still floating around her vision, but she felt better. The guilt had calmed down and for now, that was all she could ask for.

-

Gabriel didn’t say anything when Sombra walked into the kitchen and pulled out the container labeled with his name. He even handed her a fork when she seemed too out of it to remember where the utensils were kept. They sat together as they ate in an understood silence.

When Sombra made it back to the private recovery room, she noticed that a blanket was draped over the back of her trusty chair.

Widowmaker was still like she had been for the past three days. Peacefully sleeping, unaware of anything that had happened in her slumber.

Slumping into the chair, Sombra wrapped the blanket over her shoulders. “Sweet dreams. Wake up soon okay?” She leaned forward, resting her head on the side of the mattress and finally tried to sleep.

It felt like she barely got any sleep when cool fingers running through her hair woke her up. It took a few seconds for the sensation to fully register. Her thoughts had to pierce through a thick fog when it finally hit.

 “You’re awake.” Sleepy fingers reached out to press the button that would call the doctor over. Widowmaker stopped her.

“No.” Widowmaker grabbed Sombra’s reaching hand and pulled it back to her side. Her fingers curled tight around it. A silent plea that said everything she wanted. “I don’t want to see the doctor right now.”

And Sombra was squeezing Widow’s hand just as tight. “I’m sorry.” She felt her eyes start to burn with unshed tears, the feelings of guilt coming back in full force. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” The mattress dipped when Sombra hid her face in the soft blankets.

Widowmaker knitted her brows at the sight of Sombra. Something about it unsettled her. “Sombra.” No answer. She closed her eyes, trying to think of a way to make the situation better. She’d never seen the hacker like this. It wasn’t something she ever had experience in dealing with.

The bed shifted. Sombra lifted her head when Widowmaker softly pulled her hand back. She had moved to the other side of the bed. Just before Sombra was about to give the sniper some space, Widowmaker patted the spot next to her.

If there was one thing she did know, it was that Sombra liked to be close. So, when the hacker took the spot next to her, Widowmaker slowly wrapped an arm around Sombra’s shoulders. The effect was instant. A warm arm wrapped around her stomach and tears dripped onto her neck as Sombra rested her head there.

She didn’t know if it was the right thing to do because Sombra was still crying. But it felt different. And maybe, for now, that was enough.

-

It was a week since Widowmaker woke up. A week since Sombra left the next morning to take on the pile of assignments waiting for her.

Little droplets of water fell from damp hair. She had just gotten back, taking a shower as soon as she got to her room. And now she was standing in front of Widowmaker’s door. Have been standing there for the past seven minutes.

All she had to do was knock. Because she desperately wanted to see her. To feel that cool skin against her own. Make terrible jokes just to see those pretty eyes roll at her antics. It was all there on the other side of the door. But she couldn’t bring herself to take that next step.

Sombra fell over backwards when Widowmaker opened the door for her.

“Did you want to come inside?” Widowmaker leaned against the doorway, arms crossed and eyes locked with Sombra’s.

“How did you know I was here?”

“You’re not as quiet as you think.” She reached a hand down to help Sombra up, smirking at the way Sombra seemed embarrassed about the admission.

“Oh.” Fingers automatically started playing with the sniper’s. She didn’t resist when Widowmaker led them into the room.

It was nerve inducing to be there. On one hand, she was feeling those familiar butterflies whenever she was near the sniper. But she still felt guilty, halfway convinced that Widowmaker was tolerating her at best.

“You’re being quiet.”

Sombra let go of Widowmaker’s hand, pointedly looking at the floor. She heard the sniper get into the bed. “It’s just…” She took blind steps forward, leaning on one of the bed posts. “You haven’t said anything about what happened.”

“What am I supposed to say?”

“That you hate me. That you can’t forgive me.” A hand tightened around the bed post. “That it was all my fault.”

“Oui, it was your fault.”

Sombra felt her skin start to burn from the inside out. Of course, she knew it was her fault. But to hear it from the woman herself? It hurt more than anticipated. “Then why stay with me?”

Expression wasn’t Widomaker’s strong point. But she was willing to try. “Because when I’m with you,” she got up from the bed to wipe away the tears from Sombra’s cheek, “I start to feel.” She took Sombra’s hand, having her sit on the bed. “And it’s nothing less of intoxicating.”

If it wasn’t for the context of the situation, Sombra would have thought she was having a heart attack. Because it felt like her heart was going to explode.

“So, yes, it was your fault. But I never blamed you, because I was the one who couldn’t look away.” Widowmaker brushed away the last of the tears, satisfied that her words had some kind of effect.

She was smiling for the first time that week, the feelings eating away at her having melted away. “Who knew you were such a smooth talker.” Warm hands framed the snipers face, pulling her in for the kiss she’s been missing for what seemed like years.

Widowmaker leaned into the kiss, pressing Sombra onto her back. She pulled back a fraction, smirking at the instantaneous pout that appeared on the hacker’s face. “Don’t get used to it.”

 

 


End file.
